


you can fill out my form any time you like

by lukitari



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anon made me do it, Awkward Seduction, Kylo Ren is a menace, M/M, hux really likes protocol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-31
Updated: 2016-03-31
Packaged: 2018-05-30 08:54:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6417034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lukitari/pseuds/lukitari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>General Hux really, really likes rules, and he likes it when other people obey those rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you can fill out my form any time you like

Hux likes rules. He likes the structure they give, likes knowing how to react to the chaos constantly threatening to spin out of control around him, likes having guidelines to the gigantic mess that is  _ trying to conquer a galaxy.  _

Rules keep him grounded, they give him the weight he needs to keep their military machine running. There’s nothing he finds more satisfying than things clicking into place, the perfect posture of a soldier, an appropriately filled requisition form on his datapad.

Kylo Ren is a glitch in his perfectly programmed existence. He stormed into Hux’s perfectly arranged world and threw everything off balance. He’s irrational, emotional, excessively violent, rash, impulsive. He destroys things that don’t belong to him, he ignores rank, he does nothing via the proper channels, he expects everyone around him to bend to his will and cater to his every whim.

Kylo Ren is a kriffing menace.

Which is why Hux is thrown so off guard when Ren does something by the book. 

He’s in the middle of his shift on the bridge when his datapad pings with a message from Ren. He’s never gotten one before, the man rarely informs anyone of his intentions and dares to act offended when things don’t go according to his wishes.

Hux opens the message dreading its contents and finds himself nearly dumbstruck, staring at an official request for the use of training room 7 at 20:00 this cycle. He approves the request almost automatically, barely thinking as he attaches a reminder that  _ all official requests should go through ship administration and should be filed at least one cycle in advance according to protocol _ .

It takes Hux a moment to process his own reaction. He has to put down his datapad and take three deep breaths to contain the sudden warmth spiraling in his abdomen, to keep it from rising to his regrettably pale neck, cheeks. It’s ridiculous, absolutely ludicrous that he should be somehow affected by this, this fluke. Because that’s what it is, a mistake, some joke on his expense. Kylo Ren is the last person on this ship to care about the proper order of business.

Hux puts the incident out of his mind. He has more important things to worry about than Kylo Ren and his flights of fancy.

  
  
  
  


Five cycles later it happens again. Hux gets a referred message on his pad from administration, a request for the use of a prototype battle simulation droid unit that requires his approval. It’s from Ren, and it’s three cycles in advance,  _ per protocol _ .

Hux is immensely glad to be alone in his quarters at the moment, because he has to sit down on his own hands to keep from adjusting his suddenly half hard cock in his immaculately pressed trousers. He mentally recites the calculations needed to take The Finalizer into hyperspace three times before he deems himself calm enough to respond to the message.

  
  
  
  


It keeps happening. Kylo Ren finds ways to throw Hux off guard by  _ adhering to protocol _ , of all things, and it’s infuriating because Hux doesn’t know what to do about it.

Sure, it’s nice that his carefully crafted system is being utilized to its full extent by everyone on board his ship, but he can’t help feeling there’s some catch to it all. That any minute now Ren will find some way to screw it up for everyone, especially Hux. That any minute now Ren will expose to the galaxy the weakness Hux feels in his knees every time the overgrown manchild does something according to the rules.

The situation is even affecting Hux’s own performance in his duties. He keeps finding himself fantasizing about Ren in regulation boots (and nothing else), kneeling in front of him, reciting the proper dress code for officers. The fantasies are making him distracted, pausing in the middle of conversations, nearly tripping over himself during routine inspections of the troops. It’s embarrassing to say the least.

  
  
  
  


Hux isn’t any closer to a solution to his unfortunate problem two standard galactic weeks later when he receives a request for a private meeting from Ren, sent via the proper channels well in advance. The only thing not provided with the request is the reason for it, and Hux is annoyed beyond comprehension.

Still, he has no viable reason to deny the request without looking like he’s avoiding Ren, so he spends the next two cycles jittery with nervous energy, anxiously trying to keep himself from pacing on the bridge during his shifts. What could Ren possibly want that he can’t discuss or request without a meeting face to face?

The dread-induced resentment keeps building until Hux is half determined to file a request to medical for a mild sedative just to get through the meeting. It’s a pure self-indulgent thought, he’d never give up control of a situation like that.

Control, in fact, is the reason he chose to meet Ren in his own quarters. If things become unbearable he can always just kick Ren out of his own space. If they were to meet in public Ren might refuse to leave, and where would that leave Hux? Having to admit defeat and walk away first? He’d rather spend an entire cycle with his uniform buttoned wrong than give Ren even an inch of leverage like that.

So Hux does his best to keep his trepidation in check, and waits for Ren to arrive. It’s after his shift, but he’s still in full uniform, pacing the length of his front room where no one can see him slowly lose his mind.

At 22:00 hours precisely the panel by his door alerts him of a request to enter. Hux stops in his tracks, takes a deep breath, and unlocks the door. Behind it stands Ren, in his dark robe with the hood pulled over his face. He’s not wearing his mask, which is the first surprise. The second surprise comes when Ren opens his mouth to speak.

“General. Thank you for agreeing to meet with me at this hour. May I come in?”

Hux was expecting him to barge in and start making demands and throwing around veiled threats, which is what he always does. Kylo Ren doesn’t ask for things politely. Hux assumes this must be part of his strange plan to throw Hux off guard, and resolves to get through this without losing face.

“Lord Ren,” Hux says, gesturing for the man to enter, “please come in.”

The door closes with a quiet whir behind him and Hux watches as Ren stops in the middle of the room, and -

“What are you,” is all Hux is able to get out before Ren turns to face him, having taken off his hooded robe and folded it on the back of a chair. Hux blinks, swallows, stares.

Ren is wearing a standard officer’s uniform, boots shined, trousers pressed and coat buttoned to the throat. Hux continues to stare. Ren’s hair is tied back into what seems to be a bun usually favoured by female officers, not a strand is out of place, and, okay, that explains the lack of helmet.

Ren is standing at parade rest, hands behind his back, staring right back at Hux with a serious expression. Hux has no idea what is happening.

“What -” he starts, stops, doesn’t know how to continue. Ren looks ridiculous. Good. He looks good. How dare he?

“General,” Ren replies, “I wish to discuss our, er, professional relationship.”

This can’t be happening. Hux blinks. He fears his brain may leak out through his ears. There’s a buzzing in his head that nearly drowns out what Ren says next.

“It has come to my attention that you appreciate this,” Ren glances down at himself, “sort of thing, and I find myself wanting to seek your approval. In certain matters.”

Ren looks deadly serious, and Hux wonders if at some point he’s fallen and hit his head and is now in a coma, dreaming this is happening. He wants to laugh. He wants to run away. He wants to lick every inch of Ren’s skin. He wants to rub against him until Ren comes in those pristine black trousers and then he wants to punish Ren for ruining a perfectly good uniform. This has got to be a joke of some kind. A way to make Hux admit a weakness, and then use it against him. Anger flares in his belly.

Hux shakes his head, closes his eyes for a brief moment and tries to reorient himself. When he looks back at Ren he can see uncertainty, confusion, in the man’s features.

“I’ve been informed it’s not polite to pry,” Ren says, furrowing his brow, “so I’ve tried to refrain from using the Force in your presence, General. Right now, though, you’re projecting too loud to be ignored and I don’t understand you.”

Hux doesn’t know if he understands himself either. He clearly doesn’t understand Ren, or this conversation. He wants a drink.

“Why are you angry?” Ren asks, and he has the audacity to sound a little hurt. “I was told you’d be pleased.” He’s practically pouting now, and it’s too much.

Hux finally finds his voice.

“Told by whom?” He demands, furious. “Whose grand idea was it to come here, dressed like, like, that? To antagonize me, no doubt for some mutinous purpose? Tell me so I know who to court martial right out of the airlock.”

Ren is pouting even harder now, if possible. Hux hates him for going along with this, whatever this is. He hates him and hates that he also wants him, in his stupid uniform that doesn’t belong to him. Hux wants, but he will not be made a fool.

“Captain Phasma suggested the method, at my request. She told me that you respond best to protocol and order, and I’ve tried my damnest to go along with your ridiculous, stifling rules, and for what?” Ren sounds hurt, a little angry. “For you to reject me like it meant nothing?”

Ren looks away, blinking. Hux feels suddenly out of his depth, his anger draining, only to be replaced with confusion. He feels a headache coming on.

“Wait, Ren, what do you think is happening here?” he asks, rubbing his temples.

Ren won’t look at him, instead choosing to stare at the floor. His ridiculous, big ears are red.

“I’ve been making my intentions known for weeks, and I thought tonight we could... Well it clearly doesn’t matter what I thought,” Ren mutters to the floor. The floor is probably more aware of what the hell is actually happening than Hux, who can’t believe Ren is like this, this, infuriating, confusing mess.

“You’re infuriating, you know that,” Hux tells Ren. “Are you saying that for the past two weeks you’ve been, what, trying to seduce me?” He looks at Ren, silently daring him to look back. He does, whipping his head up and fixing Hux with an accusing stare. Kriffing Force.

“Well,” Ren huffs, “obviously.”

“No! Not obviously, you, you  _ oaf _ ,” Hux finds himself shouting. The volume is enough to make Ren flinch a little. Serves him right.

“Why is it so hard for you to do things like  _ actual _ people do? If you want something, say so, don’t make these, these convoluted schemes like a madman.” 

Hux runs his fingers through his hair in frustration, messing up his appearance. He’s beyond caring. Of all the troubles Kylo Ren has caused him since they were made to work together, this has got to be the most irritating, inconvenient, exasperating -

“Did it work?” Ren interrupts Hux mentally cursing him. 

“What?”

“Did it work? I can sense your arousal, but you’re also angry and sending very mixed signals. General. Sir.”

Hux  _ hates _ Ren. He wants to strip him from his stolen uniform and make him beg for it, and he hates him. He wants to grab Ren by his ridiculous ears, wants to release his tied hair and bury his fingers in it, wants to fuck his mouth until he chokes.

Ren’s eyes are wide, pupils blown, and there’s an upward tilt to his incredible, terrible lips.

“General, I would like to file in an official request,” Ren almost smiles, now. The silence stretches for what feels like an eternity.

“Go on,” Hux nods. He can’t breathe. He’s doomed, there’s no fighting it. He hates Ren, but he wants.

“I want to suck your cock, General. I want you to use me, fuck me, I want you to make me yours.”

Ren takes a step towards Hux, and continues.

“And when you’re done with me I want to fuck you, General, because if I’m to be yours, then you’re to be mine as well.”

Ren is vibrating with energy, and it must be the Force, because Hux is drunk with it as well. He’s so, so doomed, but he wants.

Hux takes a breath, two, squares his shoulders.

“Request approved. On your knees, Lord Ren.”

**Author's Note:**

> So, [anon sent me a message](http://donnagers.tumblr.com/post/142026859002/i-was-just-looking-at-your-blog-and-saw-this) comparing Hux to Amy from Brooklyn 99, getting way too excited about binders and rules, and I ran with it. I'm so sorry.


End file.
